


We were born sick, but I love it.

by lumoon33



Category: The Maze Runner (2014), The Maze Runner Series - All Media Types, The Maze Runner Series - James Dashner
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alternate Universe - Rock Band, Angst, Boys In Love, Boys Kissing, Friends With Benefits, Friendship, M/M, Smut, bottom!Thomas, brenda is here for like three seconds, i'm sorry i'm shit with tags, minho/newt friendship, minor trenda, please read it, top!newt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-10
Updated: 2015-03-10
Packaged: 2018-03-17 05:06:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,150
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3516440
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lumoon33/pseuds/lumoon33
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Newt thought that he would never feel a rush as intense as the feeling that runs through his body when he's on stage and the crowd goes crazy screaming his name, but a hot breath against his neck and sharp nails sinking in the soft skin of his thighs is just as good and a hell a lot more intense than playing at sold out arenas every night.</p>
            </blockquote>





	We were born sick, but I love it.

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! This is my first newtmas fanfic and it doesn't really convince me, but i hope you like it, i worked hard on it and it took me a lot of time.
> 
> My wonderful friend Rosie (@grantgustins on twitter, tarantism here) made a perfect playlist for this fic, you can listen to it [here](http://8tracks.com/samuiet/i-wanna-be-yours)
> 
> This is Kenzie's birthday present, I'm sorry for the wait but here it is! Please don't hate me after this. I love you and happy birthday?
> 
> English isn't my first language, sorry for the typos and other mistakes.  
> I hope you enjoy it x

Newt thought that he would never feel a rush as intense as the feeling that runs through his body when he's on stage and the crowd goes crazy screaming his name, the sweat making his clothes damp, his t-shirt glued to his skin and his guitar getting heavier as the minutes pass, his throat getting sore with every song.

But a hot breath against his neck and sharp nails sinking in the soft skin of his thighs is just as good and a hell a lot more intense than playing at sold out arenas every night.

He's panting, he doesn't know if it's because of the excitement of the concert that's still on his veins, or the alcohol and other shit he's taken that's running through his system, or just that it's too hot inside of the van, but he's panting, fighting to fill his lungs with cold air that he can't find. It's overwhelming, uncomfortable, but the burn in his chest becomes sweet when it's Thomas's breath what he starts breathing.

Their faces are so close, Newt's mouth hovering over Thomas's but never touching, never kissing, only breathing every single whimper and sigh that leaves those shiny red lips, he would love to know what they taste like, but he doesn't dare to lean all the way in, he's too coward to erase the little space that's left between them.

His hands have started shaking, something that never happens to him when he's on stage, he feels sure and confident up there, knowing that all the people screaming at him have paid to see him there; but right now, with Thomas squirming under him, he feels almost nervous.

Newt licks his lips, the sweat there that has dripped from his forehead tastes the same as when he's sweating onstage, but the cause of it isn't excitment; well, maybe it is, but mixed up with anxiety and lust and he makes Thomas turn around and presses his chest against Thomas's back before his mind can form too complicated thoughts that develop even more complicated feelings.

They're on the backseat of the van, Thomas kneeling with his hands resting over the window to support his own weight. Newt looks at them, at Thomas's hands, they are veiny and callous for playing the guitar, they clear the mist of the window without wanting every time Thomas moves. They are beautiful hands, they're strong and they always know where they have to touch to make Newt scream.

"The fuck are you doing Newt?" Thomas says, breathy, looking over his shoulder frowning "Can you fucking move?"

Newt closes his eyes tightly, he leans in and bites down on Thomas's shoulder when the idea of kissing Thomas's frown away pops up in his mind.

He runs his hands over the soft skin of Thomas's arms until they reach those beautiful hands, and he moves his hips, gets inside Thomas so the pleasure hits his body hard and clouds the fact that his fingers are intertwined with Thomas's.

Newt thought that he would never hear something as beautiful as the crowd going crazy and screaming his name, but then Thomas is saying his name with his raspy voice when he's close to his climax, and Newt finds out he was wrong.

 

\----

 

"You should stop going drunk on stage" Thomas says three days later, when they get into their dressing room after another show in another arena in another country that he doesn't even remember the name of.

Newt stretches his body and walks toward Thomas, taking the can of beer he has in his hand. He ignores his comment, because if he's being honest he doesn't even remember how it feels being sober, the past year is a blur of alcohol and pills and smell of sex in his mind.

He drinks the whole can, empties it without stopping to catch his breath, throws it away and pushes Thomas against the couch that's on the corner of the room, turning his complaints about his beer into laughter, and later the laughter into moans.

 

\----

 

Two days later it's a hotel night.

Newt loves hotel nights, not because he hates when they stay the night in the tour bus, it's difficult to sleep when the bus doesn't stop moving, but the bunks are so tiny he always ends up entangled with Thomas, and it's too hot, but it's nice.

He loves hotel nights because he loves smoking naked in the balcony, the cold breeze caressing his skin. It makes him feel more awake, more sober even though he's lost track of what he has drank today after his morning beer. 

And he loves crawling over Thomas's body after spending a couple of minutes alone in the balcony. Thomas always whines and tries to push him away, says that Newt's fingers are too cold, but Newt grabs his wrists and pins them down to each side of Thomas's head, he kisses his chest slowly, covering all the skin with kisses and small bites until Thomas is arching and begging for more contact, trying to get his hands out of Newt's grip so he can sink his nails into Newt's back when he starts grinding against Thomas.

Newt loves hotel nights because he loves making Thomas scream as loud as he can, when Thomas is on his hands and knees and Newt is right behind him, pressing his chest to his back, thrusting into him hard and fast just like Thomas likes it, intertwining their hands, too drunk to care if it's too intimate. He loves biting down on Thomas's earlobe when he's about to come, it makes Thomas shake and scream Newt's name instead of whispering it in a rough voice as he always does when they are in the tour bus.

And Thomas screaming his name takes Newt over the edge. And as nice as it is being in a tiny bunk with Thomas all over his body, rolling to a side of a queen sized bed and closing his eyes and breathing deeply after he comes is always what Newt loves to do after he gets up and goes out to the balcony again to smoke another cigarette. This time Thomas joins him.

Newt loves hotel nights because when Thomas's arm around his waist gets too heavy, when Thomas's breath over his neck gets too hot, when this tingling feeling in Newt's chest gets too uncomfortable like it's happening right now, he can always move away from Thomas to the other side of the queen sized bed and forget about that weird want of kissing Thomas on the lips that's always on the back of his mind lately. 

And that's what he does tonight.

 

\----

 

When Newt starts waking up in the middle of the night and needs to drink two beers to fall asleep again, Thomas gets worried.

"What the fuck man?" is the first thing he says when he sees Newt in the little kitchen of the tour bus, with one of his hands closed around the neck of a bottle and the other one over the cupboard to keep himself on his feet while the world keeps spinning and getting blurred around him.

Newt has his eyes closed and he takes another sip of his beer before he opens them to look at Thomas. He's only wearing a pair of boxers and a worn t-shirt, he looks kind of cute, with his eyes half closed because of the sleep and wild hair.

"You really need to stop drinking, this is getting out of hand" he says, taking a step closer to Newt.

"Why do you say that?" Newt mumbles, closes his eyes again and takes the bottle to his lips, turning his back to Thomas, he looks too adorable and Newt is too drunk, he doesn't want to do things he could regret in the morning.

"Do you think I don't notice it when you get out of bed at four am every night? I'm a heavy sleeper but I'm not stupid, for fuck's sake" Newt doesn't turn around to look at him, but by the way he's speaking, trying to sound firm and serious, he knows that annoying frown is between his eyebrows, that one Newt always wants to kiss away "Also, Minho told me he had to take you to bed more than once after you passed out in the middle of the aisle in your way to our bunk"

Newt closes his eyes again, tighter, makes a mental note of sticking one of the drumsticks up Minho's ass next morning, and ignores the burn in his chest when Thomas says 'our bunk'.

He takes a deep breath and takes the bottle of beer to his lips one more time, so the alcohol can drown the burn, he curses himself for forgetting to buy something stronger to drink.

"You're gonna ignore me, right? Fine, but you'll pass out onstage one day and I'm not going to be the one dragging your arse out of there, you fucker"

Newt turns around then, it's been a while since he's seen Thomas this upset, this angry, and it scares him. He doesn't know what he's going to say: lie to Thomas and tell him that he will try to stop drinking, tell him he's sorry even though he's not, kiss his neck to make him forget about this stupid argument...

He's still deciding what he's going to do when Thomas starts walking away.

"You tell me to stop drinking as if you were better than me! As if you didn't get wasted every night!" Newt says, and he knows Thomas doesn't drink as much as him, but when he sees him walking away he feels the sudden need of making him feel bad, and that's the first thing that comes to his mind.

Thomas flips him off without looking back at him.

Newt takes another sip of his beer.

 

\----

 

Two months later, Newt admits to himself that Thomas was right.

When he starts missing soundchecks because he's too tired to get out of bed after spending the night drinking. When he starts needing cups and cups of coffee and some hard liquor in between to stay awake before every concert. When he starts forgetting what happens every night he goes to bed with Thomas. When he needs more alcohol to stop thinking about the stupid things he could have done the night before, like kissing Thomas or saying something dumb that would make Thomas think they're more than fuck buddies.

Newt admits to himself that he has a problem and, when they have two free weeks, he gets rid of all the alcohol he has in his apartment and locks himself in.

He spends most of the time sleeping, even though he always dreams, always nightmares. When he's not sleeping he's crying. When he's not crying, he's trying not to call Thomas, his bed is too big and his head too clear, he can't keep those brown eyes out of his mind all the time without alcohol.

When the two weeks break ends, he's better. He only needs four cups of coffee to go through his day without breaking down and there's no alcohol running through his system anymore.

Newt promises himself he won't go through this ever again.

 

\----

 

They go back on tour and the first night is a hotel night.

Newt asks Minho to room with him, he can feel Thomas's hard look on his back all the way to their rooms and, even though Gally doesn't stop talking about the amazing night they are gonna have because he has brought his xbox with him this time, Newt knows Thomas is frowning.

 

\----

 

It's a weird and kind of empty hotel night without Thomas lying on bed waiting for Newt, but Newt is a man of mores, so he still goes to the balcony to smoke naked, ignoring Minho when he tries to stop him telling him that he will catch a cold and how much the band needs his voice.

Thomas finds a way to join him even though they are not sharing room.

When Newt steps into the balcony, taking a deep breath that makes his lungs feel cold and clean before he lights a cigarette, Thomas is already in the side balcony.

For a moment, Newt thinks about getting back into the room without saying a word, but Thomas looks at him with those deep brown eyes and he has to stay.

"What are you doing here?" he asks, his voice seems too loud in the quiet night. 

He lights up his cigarette and rests his elbows over the railing, looks down at the empty streets to avoid Thomas's eyes.

"I'm always here" Thomas replies, and Newt isn't looking at him but he's sure that the pain on his words is also all over his face "Why are you avoiding me?"

"I'm not avoiding you, Tommy" Newt takes a drag of his cigarette and lets the smoke leave his lips as slow as he can, so he has more time to think what he's going to say "We're not rooming together tonight, it isn't a big deal"

"Why aren't we rooming together?" 

Newt runs a hand over his face and presses his eyes with his fingers until he's seeing little colourful lights behind his eyelids as the same time he clenchs his teeth. Maybe if he keeps his eyes closed long enough Thomas will just disappear, and he will take this feeling with him, this thing between nostalgia, sadness and anger that has settled down in Newt's chest.

He's tired. The alcohol keeping his mind away from Thomas, the cigarettes being the only thing that makes him feel relaxed, the meaningless sex, the worry about doing something stupid. He's so damn tired.

"I don't wanna go back to old habits" Newt says. He looks at Thomas this time, at the bottle of beer in his hand, at his naked chest, at his emotionless expression. Newt's gotta admit he's doing a great job hiding how much Newt's words hurt him.

But Thomas doesn't answer, he swallows hard and keeps his eyes locked with Newt's, and Newt knows he understands.

Newt presses the cigarette against the railing to extinguish it, even though he's only given it one puff, and goes back inside his hotel room.

 

\----

 

The queen sized bed is too big, Newt keeps tossing and turning in bed, trying to find a comfortable position, expecting to bump into Thomas's warm body at some point.

It's driving him crazy, being alone in this bed, it feels like he's in his apartment again, lost and desperate, he can see the nightmares waiting for him every time he closes his eyelids.

He gets out of bed, the wooden floor is cold against his bare feet, he climbs into Minho's bed, the sheets are rumpled and warm and they smell like body wash and someone else. It's nice, it makes him feel less alone.

Even though the bedroom is dark, Newt can hear Minho turning around to face him, he can feel it, and he's ready for him telling him to fuck off and go back to his bed. But he's not ready for Minho to move closer and press a kiss against Newt's hair.

"I'm proud of you" Minho mumbles, so quietly Newt thinks maybe he has imagined it, maybe he's already dreaming.

Newt doesn't have nightmares that night.

 

\----

 

When they are staying more than two days in the same city they like to go out at night after the show to celebrate the tour is going great.

When Gally proposes going to a pub Newt is tempted to say no, spending the night lost between people getting drunk and alcoholic beverages doesn't seem like a good plan for someone that stopped drinking less than a month ago, but Gally and Minho are excited and Thomas is looking at him with those bright eyes, and honestly, who is he to ruin the old customs of the band?

So he drinks a lot of soda and dances with a lot of unknown guys to the beat of terrible music as Thomas tries to burn a hole in the back of his head with his intense stare.

 

\----

 

Later that night Thomas is still drunk when he climbs into Newt's bunk.

It's been an hour since they got back to the tour bus and, even though he's tired because of all the dancing, he can't fall asleep, he's afraid of the nightmares that always haunt him when he's sleeping alone.

He's lying on his side, staring at where the wall is supposed to be, he can't see anything in the dark of the tour bus, but he doesn't dare to close his eyes yet.

Newt hears how Thomas starts moving in his bunk, how he tosses the sheets away and the springs make a creaky noise when he gets up. He hears him stumbling on his way to Newt's bunk and he feels the mattress giving up under Thomas's weight.

Newt closes his eyes.

Thomas presses his face against Newt's shoulder blade, his breath hitting his t-shirt, it's warm, nice. Thomas's feet rub against Newts naked legs, they are cold and familiar and distract Newt from the nightmares.

Newt feels the sudden need of getting up and running away, escape from the mess of alcohol and sex he can see coming if he stays laying there beside Thomas. But the sleep is taking over him, the loneliness is slipping away, and he really needs a night without weird dreams waking him up every few minutes.

When he leans against Thomas's chest he's already regretting it, but he falls asleep quickly.

 

\----

 

It's becoming an habit again and Newt hates himself a little bit because he knows this is going to ruin him again. But he can't stop it, because Thomas stops his nightmares.

Every night is the same thing, it's always Thomas the one who makes the first move and climbs into Newt's bunk, and he's always drunk. Newt can see his old self in his eyes, clouded because of the alcohol and all the things he's trying to drown because he's too afraid to face them. 

Thomas holds him and Newt sleeps without nightmares. That's how it works, until one day Thomas can't keep his mouth shut any longer.

"I miss you" he mutters against Newt's hair, his voice breaks at the end, it reminds Newt to all those times he broke bottles when he stumbled on his way to Thomas's bunk, when he was the one drinking too much and shattered inside.

That's all it takes.

A few minutes later he has Thomas under his body, panting and whispering his name in that rough voice, just the same way he always did before, as Newt thrusts into him fast and hard. Their hands aren't intertwined, Newt's mind is clear this time, so he presses his fingertips over Thomas's hips as he leans in, his chest against Thomas's back one more time, his teeth sinking down on Thomas's shoulder trying not to moan out loud.

Breaking down with Thomas feels really good in that moment.

 

\----

 

It's the same routine all over again: Newt's bunk is again their bunk, Thomas is always waiting for Newt inside their shared hotel room, Thomas always joins Newt when he goes to the balcony to smoke naked. 

It's the same all over again and Thomas's eyes won't leave Newt's thoughts. He's tempted to drown the images with alcohol, but he promised himself he wouldn't go through that again.

It's all the same and the need of kissing Thomas and whispering dumb things into his ear is always there, and Newt really wants to drink till he passes out on the floor, but Minho's voice telling him he's proud of him is always on the back of his mind.

So he keeps going without alcohol, he keeps shattering without drowning the pain.

 

\----

 

Newt loves hotel nights because he gets to push Thomas all the way from the door of the bedroom to the bed, taking off their clothes slowly, laughing against Thomas's neck if he trips when he takes his pants off or if Thomas's t-shirt gets stuck in his head.

He loves it when Thomas hits the bed with the back of his knees and falls on it, taking Newt with him, their knees bump and Newt bites his tongue every time, it hurts but Thomas laughs with his head pulled back and his eyes closed so it doesn't really matter.

Tonight they get to bed totally naked, fully hard, and Newt can't wait to make Thomas scream his name, see the skin of his back covered in sweat and the back of his neck flushed all because of him. 

But when he asks Thomas to turn around he ignores him, pushes himself up on the bed until his head is resting on the pillow and motions Newt to move closer making grabby hands.

It's weird, it's stupid, sexy and cute, all at the same time. Thomas naked with his chest heaving, his dick red and shiny flat against his stomach, making grabby hands at Newt, his lips almost pouting.

It's weird, but Newt moves closer anyways, climbs over Thomas's body and presses his lip against Thomas's neck to stop himself from kissing the pout away.

Thomas moves his hips up, rubs their erections together, breathing hard against Newt's ear. Newt gasps, grinding down against him, and he has to pull away a little bit and bite his lower lip until it starts to hurt to stop the noises from falling from his lips, he refuses to be the one moaning first.

He runs his right hand down Thomas's thigh, scratching his skin with his nails, and Thomas groans, pulling his head back, exposing his neck so Newt can hide his triumphant smile pressing his lips against his adam's apple.

Thomas wraps his legs around Newt's waist and Newt slips a hand between them, gets one finger inside of Thomas's body and makes him become a mess in a few seconds.

He keeps fingering Thomas, preparing him for himself, and Thomas rests his sweaty forehead over Newt's shoulder, his hot breathing hitting his skin when he whispers, voice broken "I need to see you"

Newt stops his hand and, even though Thomas makes a little whiny noise as a complaint, he doesn't move it again. He stares down at Thomas frowning and with his mouth half open, trying to catch his breath, but it doesn't matter how fast he breaths, it never seems enough, Thomas's mouth a few inches away from his own seems to take all the air in the room.

"I need- fuck" Thomas moves his hips down, trying to feel Newt's fingers moving inside of him one more time, but Newt takes them out, he grabs Thomas's waist to keep him still, his fingertips pressing over the soft skin there, and looks at him, serious, still frowning, with that burning feeling that's always on his chest when he's close to Thomas going up his throat "I need to look at you. I want- I wanna see your face when you come inside of me"

There's this weird tickling in Newt's stomach, something warning him that he's about to cross an important line. He's scared and incredibly turned on at the same time, but right now the only thing he wants to do is to stop thinking.

He sinks into Thomas, gets inside him without warning, closing his eyes as tight as he can so he doesn't have to see Thomas's expresion when his dick gets all the way into him with only one thrust.

Thomas makes a little noise from the back of his throat, a surprised and pleased whine, one of the hottest thing Newt has ever heard, and he has heard every different kind of groan that can come out Thomas's mouth. His hands close around Newt's biceps, he sinks his nails into his skin, he breathes fast, mouth hot and wet open against Newt's shoulder.

They stay still for a moment, pressed as close together as it's possible. Newt keeps his eyes shut, he takes a deep breath, the room smells like sweat, like the stage when they've been playing for a while, it's a familiar smell, but it's mixed with sex and Thomas's own scent, it's that what makes Newt's heart beat faster and feel insecure, nervous, and he misses that confident feeling that's always present when he's on stage.

It's a stupid thing to think about when you're inside someone, how ridiculous it is that having sex scares you more than playing in front of thousands of people, something that happens when the person you're with is too important, Newt thinks.

And he's thinking too much, he wishes he could empty a bottle of vodka right now, just to stop the ridiculous thoughts away from his mind and the dumb feelings out of his chest.

Newt moves his hips back, getting almost all the way out of Thomas, and thrusts again, harder than before, and he doesn't stop moving after that, so the pleasure can mute everything, at least for a while.

One of Thomas's hands flies to Newt's hair, he pulls at it, makes Newt pull his head back and presses their foreheads together.

"Newt" Thomas groans, low and rough. Newt closes his eyes even tighter "Newt, open your eyes. I want you to look at me"

Thomas's voice sounds like it does after every concert, hoarse, croaky, kind of broken. Something hot runs down Newt's back when he thinks that this time it isn't because of two hours of singing, it is because he's breathless, because of him.

So he does. He opens his eyes and regrets it as soon as they lock with Thomas's.

It feels wrong. Looking at Thomas when he's this vulnerable, it feels too intimate, too important. More important than it should be.

But Newt doesn't stop, he keeps fucking Thomas hard and fast, just like he knows Thomas likes it. He sinks one hand in Thomas's hair, pulls at it, and sinks the other hand between their bodies, curls it around Thomas's dick, makes Thomas scream his name louder than he has ever done before, and he never looks away.

When Thomas comes, with his mouth and eyes wide open, Newt's name leaving his lips again and again, Newt closes his eyes one more time, he moves his head away from Thomas's, bites down on his shoulder as the pleasure takes over his body and makes him lose control, forget about everything for a few seconds before the ridiculous thoughts and the dumb feelings come back.

 

\----

 

Newt can't sleep that night, the look in Thomas's face when he came keeps him awake.

He gets out of bed at four am to get rid of the image with alcohol.

 

\----

 

The routine changes a little bit: Newt's bunk is still their bunk, Thomas is always waiting for Newt inside their shared hotel room and Newt fucks him with his eyes wide open locked with Thomas's, Thomas always joins Newt when he goes to the balcony to smoke naked, and Newt gets drunk in the toilets after every concert to drown ridiculous thoughts, dumb feelings and the guilt that settles down in his chest when Minho's words echo in his head.

 

\----

 

Newt's lying on one of the couches in the back of the tour bus, the tv is on and a beer is in his hand.

The rest of the band is out and he's enjoying alcohol without having to hide in the toilets, so he won't disappoint anyone is they catch him, when the door opens and Thomas leans against the frame, looking at him with his eyebrow raised.

Newt panics for a second, he doesn't know what to do, if close his eyes and pretend his asleep, throw the bottle to the ground, or leave the room as fast as he can't.

He does none of the three things, he stays still looking back at Thomas.

"Aren't you going to share?" Thomas says walking closer, his lips curled up on a smirk.

Newt hands him the beer, follows Thomas's movements when he takes it to his lips, looks at the way his adam's apple moves when he swallows, it makes him wanna bite the skin that covers it.

"Don't worry, I'm not gonna tell anyone" Thomas is still smiling as he speaks, he leaves the bottle on the floor and walks even closer "But be careful this time, I don't want you to get as bad as before" 

His words have double meanings to Newt, because Thomas moves Newt's legs apart as soon as he gets to the end of the couch, he kneels between them and his hands start to undo Newt's pants, and he doesn't know if Thomas was talking about the alcohol or about himself, maybe both; his words sound hypocrite anyways, because he's the one driving Newt crazy, and the smirk on his lips as he pushes Newt's pants and underwear down tells him he knows it.

Newt's already semi hard when Thomas starts kissing his thighs, and he wants to reach out and grab the bottle of beer and glup down the rest of it. He doesn't though, he closes his eyes and pulls at Thomas's hair as soon as he gets his mouth on him.

They don't usually do this, blowjobs aren't their thing, quickies after every show was what they were into, that was all until Newt had to start to mute his thoughts and Thomas's job became to make all Newt's defenses fall down.

Newt is tempted to stop Thomas, he knows this is another step forward in a direction he isn't interested going, to a place that scares him, seems too painful, dangerous even. But Thomas's mouth is so warm and wet, his tongue licking all his length, his red lips kissing the tip of his dick once in a while, it feels so good and Newt is so weak.

"Fuck, Tommy" he breathes out, opening his eyes and pulling harder at Thomas's hair, making him lift his head and look at him, his eyes are shiny, but not as much as his lips, red and covered on spit. Newt wants to kiss him, a terribly familiar feeling that he can't get rid of, it doesn't matter how much he tries to "Take off your clothes" he growls, and Thomas smiles up at him, runs his tongue over his lips, as if he knows exactly what Newt's thinking, and he probably does.

Thomas gets off the couch, gets his shoes off pushing them with his heels, he undoes his pants always looking into Newt's eyes, undresses himself as slow as he can, and the impatience, the want and the pulsing feeling in Newt's dick is driving him crazy, he wants to get up, rip Thomas's shirt open and pin him against the closest wall.

But he doesn't, he stays still, watches how Thomas steps out of his pants and underwear and gets closer again. He crawls over Newt, with his shirt still on, his lower lip between his teeth and his dick fully hard.

Newt's breath gets caught in his throat when Thomas sits over his thighs, straddling him, he gasps when Thomas presses their erections together and curls a hand around them. 

It's one of the best thing Newt's ever felt, Thomas's calloused hand stroking both of their lengths at the same time, at a slow pace, it makes Newt whimper and his tshirt feels too hot suddenly, rough against his skin.

His fingers tickle when he thinks about intertwining them with Thomas's and jerk their dicks together, but he keeps his hands at his sides, curled into fists. He's allowing himself to do a lot of too intimate things lately, he needs to stop before he says something stupid.

"Tommy, I need you to-" the words get stuck in his throat when Thomas stops moving his hand and leans over him, taking Newt's earlobe between his teeth as he starts grinding against him "Thomas stop being a fucking tease, I need to- oh fuck!" Thomas lifts his hips and sits down suddenly, taking Newt in almost all the way in just one fast move. 

Newt's hands fly to Thomas's arms, he grabs them tight, his nails sinking into his skin, his head fallen down and a bunch of nonsense words leaving his mouth.

"Is this what you need, huh?" Thomas whispers in Newt's ear as he starts moving up and down slowly "Is this what you want Newt?" he looks at Newt, presses their foreheads together and keeps moving. 

It's obvious that it hurts him, he hasn't prepped himself and Newt hasn't even touched him yet, he has that cute frown between his eyebrows, and Newt shouldn't find it cute, at least not in this moment, but he does, and he wants to kiss it. He wants to kiss Thomas.

Newt moves one of his hands to Thomas's waist, his fingers pressing there way too hard, but if he doesn't he will push Thomas to go faster, and he doesn't want to hurt him. His other hand goes to Thomas's hair, he pulls at it when Thomas bites his lower lip again.

"Do you want this?" he keeps saying, his words come out as moans "Or is it something else what you need?"

Thomas wets his lips with the tip of his tongue, as if he knew that Newt was thinking about kissing him like ten seconds ago, and Newt pulls at his hair again, tries to move Thomas's head closer to his, his eyes never leaving Thomas's lips.

"No" Thomas gasps, breathless, his hands over Newt's shoulders, keeping the distance between them, and the distance seems awful to Newt right no. He needs Thomas all over him, his chest pressed against his, he needs to find out what his lips taste like "Ask for it Newt. I know what you want, just- just say it and you'll get it"

A frustrated whine leaves Newt's throat when he tries to kiss Thomas and he fails one more time. He feels weak and he doesn't like it, he feels like Thomas knows him too well, he feels exposed and it's the worst thing he has ever felt.

He gives up, because maybe if he does the feeling will go away.

"Kiss me" he growls, pulling at Thomas's hair again, and this time he doesn't resist.

Newt doesn't know what he was expecting, maybe Thomas to erase the uncomfortable feelings with his tongue, or his taste to be good enough to mute his thoughts, to be stronger than alcohol. 

But it's a messy kiss; it's them trying to win a dumb fight and make the other feel weak, it's teeth biting tender skin and trying to make it bleed, it's nails scratching and hands almost bruising. 

And it doesn't make everything disappear, it makes everything realer.

When Newt comes this time, his eyes are closed, his lips are burning and his heart is beating faster than ever, filled with regret and fear, but he's never felt more relieved.

 

\----

 

Their routine changes again: Newt's bunk is still their bunk, Thomas is always waiting for Newt inside their shared hotel room and Newt keeps fucking him with his eyes wide open locked with Thomas's. Newt gets drunk in the toilets after every concert, and he gets drunk with Thomas when they are alone. He keeps trying to stop words for coming out and trying to drown the guilt that lives in his chest, Minho's words always echoing in his head.

 

\----

 

One night, when Newt is too drunk to control what he's saying but sober enough to remember next morning, he mumbles "I fucking love you" against Thomas's sweaty neck when he comes.

When Thomas looks at him a few minutes later with a pleased half smile on his lips, he thinks that maybe he didn't need to stop his words with alcohol all this time.

 

\----

 

It's one of those nights where the band goes to some pub at night to relax and celebrate how the tour is going, Thomas is nowhere to be seen and Minho's eyes are staring at Newt's hands all the time, how they curl around the neck of his fourth bottle of soda, the way he strokes it nervously with his thumb and grabs it so hard that his knuckles are white.

"Is there something you need to talk about Newt?" he asks, his voice soft and his hand gentle when he squeezes Newt's shoulder.

Newt hates it, the way he's treating him, as if he's made of the same glass as the bottle that's between his hands, as if he could break if the hand on his shoulder squeezed too hard.

"I'm fine" he answers, too sharply probably, pushing Minho away and taking another sip of soda.

Minho is trying to take care of him and it makes him angry, because he's never needed someone to take care of him before, and because he feels guilty for lying to him. Minho always has that concerned look when he's looking at Newt, it makes him want to disappear.

"Look who's finally here!" Gally screams when he comes back from the dance floor, he wraps an arm around Newt's shoulders and points to the entrance of the pub.

Newt stares at Thomas as he walks toward them, with a stupid big smile on his face and a girl holding his hand. Newt's grip on the bottle of soda tightens and Minho's concerned look is on him again.

"Hey guys, sorry for being late, I had to pick up Brenda" he says after he hugs Gally and pats Minho on the back, his eyes never leaving Newt's.

The girl, Brenda, stands there, touching her hair awkwardly with one hand and Thomas's shoulder with the other one. Newt wonders if she knows that earlier today he was making Thomas scream his name in the back of a van.

Gally and Minho introduce themselves and Newt takes another sip of his soda.

"Can we talk?" he says interrupting a conversation he wasn't even paying attention to, his eyes still locked with Thomas's.

"Sure man" Thomas nods, still smiling.

"Who is she?" Newt asks pointing to Brenda with his head when they move to a less crowded area on the pub. He feels disgusted by himself, acting like a jealous boyfriend.

"I told you, Brenda. We've been seeing each other for a month now, I thought you guys should meet her" Thomas talks without looking directly at Newt, as if now that they are alone he isn't brave enough.

"Is she your girlfriend?" Newt's voice comes out higher than usual, sounds ridiculous in his own ears.

"Yeah, I guess" 

Newt stares at Thomas, who's staring at Brenda, and swallows hard.

"But I thought we- I thought-" he stops trying to talk because he isn't even sure what he wants to say.

Thomas turns around to finally look at him, frowning, probably wondering why Newt is so worked up over this if they've never been more than fuck buddies.

Newt thought they could be; they could be something more than that, something serious, if he stopped drinking his words mixed with alcohol, if he allowed himself to talk. And he did that night, he told Thomas he loved him.

He guesses he shouldn't have done it, he guesses he was doing the right thing when he tried not to think about the way he felt around Thomas. He guesses he's been stupid thinking they could be something else, and that he was right back then, when he thought he would ruin everything if he let his guard down time enough to say something as stupid as 'i love you'.

"It doesn't matter" he mumbles and goes back to where his friends are, never looking back at Thomas.

He drinks a glass of vodka for Thomas.

He drinks a second one for Brenda.

He drinks a third one for the disappointed look on Minho's eyes.

And he loses track after the fourth one.

 

\----

 

He doesn't remember how he gets back to the hotel room that night, but he knows Thomas isn't there with him, and he remembers Minho's sad voice when he said "I won't let this happen again".

 

\----

 

The band splits after that and Newt knows it's his fault.

He locks himself at home one more time, what Minho said at the meeting they had to decide the future of the band never leaving his mind.

"Health comes first and I don't wanna keep this up if it's going to ruin Newt"

Newt feels disgusted, he hates himself a little bit for ruining everyone's dream, he hates himself a little bit more for not being able to take care of himself, and he wants to drink to stop feeling disgusted, but he doesn't because he wouldn't be able to handle Minho's disappointed expression one more time.

 

\----

 

The band's been on a three months hiatus when Thomas calls him.

"I miss making music with you" he mumbles at the other side of the line, he's never sounded this sad, shattered "I miss touring the world and playing in front of thousands of people with my friends"

Newt doesn't answer, he breathes hard and closes his eyes as memories of the years in the band come back to him.

"I miss you" Thomas says, his voice breaks at the end and he tries to hide it coughing, it should make Newt sad, but it makes him feel better, knowing he's not the only one that's kind of lost without the band.

"Call Gally, I'll call Minho. Let's get back" that's what he says right before he hangs up, that's the only thing he says in the whole phone conversation, and he knows he's going to regret it, but he decides he doesn't care anymore.

 

\----

 

The new tour starts and the first night is a hotel night.

Newt missed hotel nights and smoking naked on the balcony, the cold breeze caressing his skin.

Thomas joins him, he's naked too, with a bottle of beer in his hand and a wide grin on his lips. He walks closer to Newt, takes the cigarette from his lips, takes a drag and moves closer, he leans in, lets the smoke leave his mouth to hit Newt's, and Newt closes his eyes and breaths it in at the same time he erases the little space that's left between them.

He kisses Thomas softly and decides that, if they are going to do this again, what better way to do it than the old way.

He takes the bottle of beer from Thomas's hand when their lips part, and he drinks what's left.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading, tell me what you think about it please <3


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